Look After You
by bethygrace
Summary: He didn't know what was wrong. But the grief in her eyes compelled him to do whatever he could to fix it. To make it better. To look after her.
1. If I don't say this now

**Hello all! This is the first in a loose series I've been working on with some songs as the inspiration. It's not directly a songfic, more of a standalone fic placing our beloved Olicity (and Diggle, because he's amazing) in some off screen circumstances with a bit of a soundtrack. They won't be chronological and I may cover the same concept multiple ways, so just FYI.**

**Enjoy! And please let me know what you think :)**

**Disclaimer: I don't own them so don't sue me. I'm just borrowing them for while :)**

_LOOK AFTER YOU _

_CH. 1_

Oliver would never admit the half smile that came to his face whenever he returned from a patrol to see his blonde IT girl waiting for him at her desk. While she tried to hide it, there was always that bit of nervousness while he was gone and he could see it fade each time he came back in one piece, or at least without major injury.

Tonight, he was surprised to see her chair empty. She had been there when he left a few hours earlier. He wasn't sure what unnerved him more – her absence from her routine perch or the fact that it bothered him to start with.

Setting down his bow, he looked to Diggle, who was sitting against the wall with a concerned look on his face.

"Did Felicity go home?" he asked, trying to keep his tone light to not betray his disappointment or anything else that may come out.

The older man shook his head and rose to his feet, pointing back in the direction of the small bathroom they had added a few weeks before. "She's taking a shower."

Eyebrows furrowing, Oliver was struck by the oddity of her timing. Seeing his expression, Diggle came closer, lowering his voice, "She got a phone call from someone…and whatever was said, it upset her. She tried to hide it but I could still tell something was up. I tried to ask but she wouldn't talk, she just got up and went in there."

Worry lines creasing his forehead, Oliver looked over to the door, hearing the faint sound of water running. Turning back, he started to ask how long she had been in there when Diggle eyed him, "She has been in there for a solid 30 minutes man."

Concern blossomed in his chest as he nodded, moving towards the small bathroom.

It had been her idea to add it, pointing out that Oliver could use a place to change and shower after he came back "all hot and bothered..er…hot and sweaty…3, 2,1" after his missions.

Raising his fist, he knocked a few times on the door and attempted humor first, "Felicity, the city does charge me for water, you know." Waiting, he heard no answer. Frowning, he knocked again a little louder, "Felicity, you alright in there?"

He could've sworn he heard a sniffle but everything was muffled through the door, even her soft voice, "I'm fine Oliver. I'll be out shortly."

Lips set in a line, he stepped back from the door, knowing she wouldn't appreciate him crowding her. Resisting the urge to pace, he rocked back and forth on his heels until the door opened, billows of steam rushing out of the confined space. She exited, dressed in a pair of sweats and a t-shit that left in the lair, wet hair loosely braided over one shoulder, eyes downcast, avoiding Oliver's as she shuffled past him.

"It's free now to use." Her soft, shaky tone did nothing to alleviate the mounting concern he was trying to keep in check. Snaking out a hand, he caught her wrist and tugged her towards him gently.

"Hey, you alright?" He purposefully kept his tone light, not wanting to cross a line and make her shut down.

Her eyes shifted from her feet to his and then glanced nervously up. His breath caught in his throat as he took in the red rims and dull pain present in her normally clear blue eyes. His eyebrows furrowed in concerned response and he found himself take a step closer, his arms coming to rest on her upper arms.

"Felicity, what's wrong? What's going on?" His voice came out a little rougher than he had intended, but seeing his IT girl cry was pretty high on his list of things that scared him witless.

Clearing her throat, she looked away for a moment as if to muster some courage before turning back to him. "I'm going to need to take a personal day or two, if that's alright. I'll get everything set up here so the searches are running while I'm gone." Her voice was clear and almost too precise. In that moment, Oliver would've given anything for her to ramble on and on.

"Sure, of course. Take as much time as you need. Are you okay? Are you sick? I can take you home." He tried to be reassuring but the thought of her needing personal time, though a normal request, ratcheted up the alarm in his mind. Was she sick?

"I – I need to-" she paused, trailing off as her eyes swept to her desk. Oliver moved a hand to rest along her neck, stroking her jaw line with his thumb unconsciously.

"Felicity? Talk to me."

That shook her out of the reverie she was stuck in and she righted herself, taking a step back out of his reach before responding. "I need to leave Starling for a few days. I should be back early next week." Before Oliver could respond, she turned quickly on her heel and swooped towards her desk to grab her bag and her coat. "The searches I have running should be fine. Same rule as always, don't touch my babies." Her eyes avoided both his and Diggle's gaze as she moved towards the staircase. "I may not be able to respond if you call, but I'll try to check my phone if it's really an emergency."

Oliver had already hung up his hooded jacket and grabbed his brown leather and his car keys by the time she had finished, following her up the stairs. "Felicity, slow down. Let me take you home."

She turned on him then with a soft tone. "No, I need my car Oliver. I'm fine," she lied, shifting her eyes away from him.

"You guys take your car Felicity. I'll follow behind and give Oliver a lift back. We all need to be getting home anyway. It's late," Diggle spoke up from the base of the stairs, grabbing his own jacket after sharing a brief look with Oliver.

She didn't seem to have enough fight left to take them both on and merely shrugged, leading the three of them up and out of Verdant. Silently, she walked to her car and sat in the passenger seat, staring at her hands.

Oliver paused, grabbing Diggle's arms as they both eyed her with concern. "Dig, did you get a gist of what happened on that call?"

The former soldier shook his hand, brow furrowed towards the girl, "She didn't say much in response. Something about understanding and she thanked the person. Then she was up and walking to the shower. I don't know man. But something's not right."

Oliver responded with a brief nod before walking to her car and climbing in. He looked over at her briefly, noting that she had yet to put on her seatbelt. She barely looked up when he reached across her to grab it and buckle it securely across her lap. The knot of worry in his chest tightened just a bit.

The ride to her apartment was silent. Felicity seemed focused on her thumb nails, which were chipped and jagged by the time they arrived. Oliver wasn't trying to hide his concern at that point, but also trying to gauge how far he could push her. This was foreign territory for them. Felicity was the bright and happy one. The optimist. The most human of them all. And frankly, she was rather predictable and dependable. It was something he cherished about her. She provided a level of stability for their little team that they so desperately needed.

So sitting there with her now, silent, tense, he was completely out of his element and had to admit that he was off kilter as a result.

As they pulled up to the apartment, he turned to her, placing one hand on her arm. She stilled but kept her eyes down, "Felicity. The offer still stands. If you need to tell someone about your day. I'm here."

She seemed to consider his words for a moment and then reached to unbuckle her seatbelt, "Thank you Oliver, really. I'm fine." With that, her head was out of the door. He noticed she left her purse in the floorboard and grabbed it, jumping out to catch up with her. Only then did he notice that she was a bit unsteady on her feet. Diggle, who had parked right behind them, noticed it as well and they both jumped forward to steady her. For all her "I'm fines," she didn't turn down the help and seemed to soften as one of Oliver's hands went to the small of her back and the other to her elbow.

Nothing was said as the two escorted her to her apartment, checking to make sure the unit was secure and the windows locked. Diggle and Oliver shared a look and with a brief nod and a squeeze to her shoulder, the former soldier left the apartment.

She dropped her purse on the counter, seeming to not notice Oliver standing in her entryway as she moved into her bedroom. Giving her a moment to recoup, he moved into the kitchen, taking down two wine glasses and a bottle of her favorite red that he knew she had stashed for a rainy day. He wasn't sure what had happened, but his IT girl loved her wine, and he wanted it ready if needed. Leaving the glasses on the counter, he moved quietly towards the bedroom, pausing to lean against the doorway.

She was standing at the foot of her bed, unzipping a small suitcase, moving with a slow but steady purpose.

"Where are you going?

If his question surprised her, she didn't show it. Without looking up, she crossed to her dresser, rifling through the drawers for a few things to throw back in the suitcase. "Home. Coast City."

His heart started to beat a bit faster. Was this it? Was she leaving? Had he done something? Had he finally pushed her to her breaking point? With a deep breath, he willed his racing mind to stop getting ahead of itself and unclenched his tight fists.

"Why is that?" He wanted to demand answers, but something about her state told him to tread carefully, to treat her with a gentle hand. That this was not the time to push her.

She paused, a pair of jeans fisted in her tiny hands. She looked down at them for a moment, as if considering the role they played in the greater scheme of life, before tossing them haphazardly into the bag.

"I have some things to take care of. Like I said, I just need a few days. If it's not too much to ask I mean. I pretty much spend all of my time working." Her voice was still soft and despite the sharpness of her words, her tone held not anger towards him or bitterness about her work. He knew that she valued both her job at QC, even if it was beneath her qualification-wise, and even more her role on Team Arrow as she called it. She was the glue that held them together, and she reveled and thrived in that important role.

She turned to her closet, pulling out a few dressier items before reaching into the back to a garment bag. He watched as she held it up in front of her, hands trembling just a bit as she brought the zipper down. His curiosity was piqued and he stepped closer to her side, concerned at her sharp intake of breath. Inside was a simple black dress. Classic and straight-laced with a simple black leather belt, it seemed like something she would be very uncomfortable in. He was wondering why it was significant when he heard a slight sob coming from the petite blonde in front of him.

Alarmed, he reached up to gently take hold of her elbows, "Felicity? What is it?"

She ducked her head, not willing to meet his eyes, but didn't move from his grasp as she laid the dress across the suitcase. Sucking in a shuddering breath, he noticed her shoulders tremble with the weight of whatever it was she was holding back. Turning her slightly, he lifted a hand to tip her chin up.

Their eyes met for a moment and his heart ached in his chest when he saw the unshed tears threatening to fall.

Though he had never hugged her before, despite always wondering what she would feel like against his chest, he tugged her closer, wrapping one arm around her waist and the opposite hand cupping the back of her head.

"Shhhh. It's okay. Shhhh." He murmured against her hair, sensing her body relax into him. Her hands grabbed onto his shirt, her forehead falling to rest against his chest. He smiled softly against her temple, noting how she was a perfect fit in his arms, frowning only a moment later when the unshed tears began to fall and soak his shirt.

He rocked her gently, stroking her hair with his hand and murmuring comforting words in her ear. Her cries were silent but he could still feel her body tremble against him as the sobs poured out.

He wasn't sure how long they stayed that way, but when she made the move to pull back, he let her, knowing that he needed to be there on her terms, and not wanting to make her anymore upset than she already was. He tried to ignore the loss and sense of cold he felt when she left his arms, instead trying to focus on her face. She rubbed her eyes roughly, smearing mascara beneath her eyelids. For a moment, he observed her, noting how her vulnerability made her seem even younger, more innocent. Suddenly, he was in full possessive mode, wanting to take her away and watch over her, ensuring nothing so much as caused her discomfort. Her deep shuddering breath snapped him out of that train of thought, and when she moved to sit on the edge of the bed, he took the seat right next to her. Close enough to touch if she wanted his comfort, but far enough to respect her personal space.

"I got a phone call tonight – from the hospital in Coast City. My uh – my mimi – um, my grandmother, was found in her apartment tonight. She had a heart attack from what they can tell. She didn't make it," her voice was small as she spoke, small and measured. As if it was taking a tremendous amount of internal control to keep her voice steady.

Oliver reached out to put his hand over hers where it rested on her lap. "I'm so sorry Felicity. Were you close to her?"

Her eyes traveled to their hands entwined in her lap and she took in another fortifying breath before nodding. He stroked his thumb over her hand, desperately wishing he could wipe away the grief that was settling hard over her entire body. He had never seen her like this. Quiet, yet calm. She wasn't hysterical like Thea was when she was upset, and she wasn't crumbling against him like Laurel would have. She was composed, despite the tears he saw rolling down her cheeks and the slight tremble in her hands. As he silently observed her, a wave of something crashed over him. Truthfully, he was amazed by this woman. Not just by her beyond impressive resourcefulness as the brains of Team Arrow, but by her heart. Her strength. And right now, her grief. The way she carried herself on a given day brought a smile to his face. Right now, it was tugging on the strings of his heart and he wanted nothing more than to make this better.

As if knowing what he was thinking, she swallowed thickly and lifted her eyes to meet his. Her lips were set in a firm line, but her eyes showed the depth of her grief plainly, and if he looked close enough, a hint of need. Without thinking, he leaned forward to press a tender kiss to her temple, leaving his lips there long enough to convey a measure of comfort. Was it the professional thing to do, boss to assistant? He didn't really know because she was more than an assistant to him, and right now, she was a woman in need of comfort. And that was all that mattered.

* * *

His lips felt warm and soft against her skin and she felt the tenuous control she had over her emotions slip just a bit as she leaned into his lips. She shouldn't be soaking up the comfort he was giving like this. After all, he was just her boss. And he had made his position on this – whatever was between them – quite clear after Russia. She wasn't expecting this or looking for this from him. But she also didn't have the heart to turn it down.

He leaned back just a bit and she immediately felt the cold that had wrapped around her since the phone call rush back into her bones. A slight shiver ran up her spine and she returned her gaze to her lap, giving herself a moment to compose her emotions. She had already sobbed into his shirt once tonight, she wasn't about to let it happen again.

Before she could think, his hands had left hers and with a quiet murmur of something, left the bedroom. She barely acknowledged the soft noises coming from the kitchen and took the moment alone to wipe the moisture from her eyes, running a brief hand over her wet hair. Granted, at this point, Oliver had already seen her a mess, but she couldn't help wanting to retain some dignity in front of the man she cared so deeply for.

Willing herself to move, she stood and resumed packing, folding her black funeral dress into the suitcase without looking at it again. Crossing to her dresser, she opened her jewelry box, pulling out a few pieces she would need before reaching to the very back. Her hand shook just a bit as it brushed across a small black jewelry box. Her eyes welled slightly as she ran a cautious thumb over the top of the box before moving to stand by her suitcase. This was how Oliver found her when he returned, warm mug of tea in his hand for her.

"Felicity?" His soft voice shook her from her reverie and she glanced to the left, noting the mug with a soft look of gratitude. His eyes were equally soft and he wasn't trying to hide the concern he was feeling for her. That look in his eyes – directed at her specifically – hit her heart in a way she couldn't deal with right now. With a gentle nod, she took the mug gratefully with one hand, thankful for the warmth that it infused into her skin as she took a cautious sip.

His hand fell to her shoulder with a gentle squeeze.

"Thank you, Oliver. For the ride and… for the tea." She was proud of how put together her voice sounded, and mentally gave herself a pat on the back.

He nodded in response, sitting again on the bed, next to her suitcase. She narrowed her eyes slightly at him, fully expecting him to have given her some excuse about the office, or the fact that Diggle was downstairs. Instead, he was settling in, silently offering her comfort and companionship. She felt a tear fall and knew it wasn't from grief this time. His brows furrowed as he saw it, reaching a thumb up to brush it away. She rewarded his action with a watery smile.

"What's that?" His gaze drifted to the box still clutched in her right hand. "If you want to tell me, I mean. You don't have to."

His cautious tone did not go unnoticed, and she was overwhelmed by the thoughtfulness he was showing to her. This wasn't the Oliver Queen she accustomed to dealing with. But considering her current emotional state, she was grateful for the softness he was showing, even if she would probably be mortified later for allowing it.

She handed him the mug, lifting the lid of the small velvet box with one hand. Her eyes welled again seeing the box's contents. "Mimi gave me these, the day I graduated from MIT. She said every woman, geek or not, needed a pair." Oliver leaned over curiously, a small half-smile appearing on his face when he saw the delicate pearl earrings. Felicity rubbed a reverent thumb over them and swallowed down the sob that was rising in her throat. "She saved for months for these. Said I deserved the real ones." Oliver was watching her now with an open expression. His hand drifted to her elbow, where it offered a silent support.

Sucking in a shuddering breath, she carefully closed the box and placed it safely in her suitcase, tucking it amongst her other items as if it were made of crystal. "They are still the nicest things I own…I mean, I know that's probably silly to you considering your socks probably cost more than they do and I –"

A firm squeeze at her elbow stopped her nervous babble and she jerked her eyes to him. That half smile was still firmly in place, and Felicity saw the soft sincerity in his eyes as he spoke, "Felicity, they are absolutely beautiful. I can see why you treasure them." The genuine care in his eyes shook her and she closed hers in response.

* * *

He kept a supportive hand at her shoulder, hoping it was bringing her comfort. When her eyes opened again, she looked a little more put together and nodded softly, turning back to her suitcase to finish packing. He sat there silently watching her for a few minutes until she had finished and zipped the bag. He stood, setting the mug down on her dresser before taking the bag off of her bed for her and placing it on the floor.

For the first time since they had gotten there, there was a slight awkwardness between them as they both stood, unsure. He saw her start to stiffen and reacted quickly.

"When is the..when is the funeral?"

She bit her lip thoughtfully and slight furrow appeared between her brows. He instantly wanted to smooth it away. "I'm not sure yet. I'll need to plan that."

Confused, he took a step towards her, running his hand down her bare arm, "Isn't there someone else? Your mom or dad, or a cousin, that could help?"

He instantly knew he had said the wrong thing as he watched a veil of pain cross her normally clear blue eyes. She stiffened, a new layer of tension falling onto her shoulders before she looked away, anywhere but at him. "No, it's just me."

A heavy dose of regret and guilt settled in his stomach, realizing that for all the time he spent with this amazing woman, he knew very little about her family. He knew very little about her background period. He knew her little tells, her favorite wines, that she hated kangaroos, and other small tidbits she had let out over the last year and a half. But he didn't know much of her background beyond going to MIT.

A knot in his chest made itself known as he thought of her having to plan a funeral for her grandmother, a woman who she clearly adored, alone. Rubbing his hand up her arm to cup her cheek, he made up his mind.

"Felicity, I'd like to go with you. Help you, if you'd let me."

The surprise that shot through her eyes at his words showed that she definitely wasn't expecting that. And he wasn't sure what hit him harder, the fact that she didn't expect him to be there for her through this hard time, or the look of barely restrained relief that followed the shock.

She surprised him further a moment later when she stepped into him, resting her forehead on his chest and wrapping her small arms around her waist. He responded in kind, tugging her in close, one hand running through her soft hair and the other rubbing comforting circles on her lower back.

"Thank you."

He shut his eyes, resting his cheek against her hair, knowing that no response was needed. He had prepared his argument in his head in case she was going to fight him on this, but he was more than grateful that she was letting him be there, to look after her. She stepped back from the hug, looking a bit less burdened at the thought of not being alone and he felt a thrill of pride shoot through him when he realized he had lessened that burden.

"Why don't you lie down for just a bit, try to get a little rest. I'll get everything set up and have Diggle grab me some clothes."

She nodded mutely, the exhaustion clear on her face. He placed a gentle hand on her shoulder and pushed her to sit on the bed. He waited while she kicked her shoes off and set her glasses on the bedside table before he lifted the duvet for her to slide under. With a sigh, her head hit the pillow and he tucked the blanket securely around her. Turning to leave, he felt a gentle touch on his hand and turned back to see her reaching out for him.

Something twisted in his chest as he took her hand, dropping a soft kiss to it and smiling at her.

"Thank you Oliver."

He nodded, squeezing her hand again before moving into the living room to call Digg.


	2. Hurry up and wait

**Thank you so much for following and reviewing this story! I know you all love caring and attentive Oliver like I do :). I will warn you though, I will probably ratchet up the angst in later chapters, maybe create a bit of extra conflict. :) But for now, here's a short chapter to celebrate the New Year. More to come this week!**

-**bethygrace**

* * *

Oliver scrubbed a rough hand over his face, sitting back on Felicity's couch with a sigh. Their bags were packed and waiting in the trunk of the car. Diggle had suggested they let Felicity wake up on her own, knowing she would need the rest over the next few days. His partner stood in the kitchen, sipping on his coffee pensively. He had wordlessly informed Oliver that he would be coming along as well when Oliver had requested that he pick up some clothes for him at the mansion.

He knew the bond between his IT girl and his bodyguard-turned-friend was deep, and had appeared to strengthen considerably during his absence after the Undertaking. He had been tempted more than once to ask about the time he was gone, but something halted his words before they ever left his mouth. Something told him a lot had happened and he selfishly realized he couldn't handle facing any additional pain his absence had inflicted on his two closest friends.

They had gotten to know each other better while he was gone, that much he could tell. Dig hadn't seemed surprised as Oliver was when he informed his partner she didn't have anyone else to help her make arrangements for her grandmother's funeral. He had just nodded shortly and stood guard near Felicity's bedroom door.

Curiosity got the best of him then. "You knew she didn't have anyone else didn't you?" It wasn't an accusation, but more of a plea, though Oliver wasn't sure why.

Diggle didn't look up from his coffee as he nodded, eyes straying to her bedroom door. "Yeah, I knew."

Oliver waited expectantly for more information, suddenly feeling out of the loop. When he realized Dig wasn't volunteering anything further, he continued his line of questioning. "Do you know anything else about her family?"

Diggle caught his eye then, pinning him with a surprisingly sharp look. "That's for Felicity to tell you, Oliver. Not me."

His brows furrowed of their own volition and he stood, crossing to stand closer to his partner. His eyes fell on her door again, and silently was grateful she was still resting. "I hadn't realized how little I really knew about her until tonight." The thought made his heart ache a bit and the guilt washed over him.

Dig cleared his throat then, setting the coffee on the counter and leaning across the island to fix him with an honest look, "I had to learn more about her when you left. Someone had to look after her. I had Carly checking on me, and I somehow assumed that someone was checking on her. Until I found her hanging out in the Glades."

Oliver's grip hardened on the counter and an angry haze fell over his eyes, "The Glades? Why on earth would she be there? What happened, Dig?" The tone of his voice did nothing to hide the bit of fear taking root in his mind. He had heard the Glades were their worst in the weeks after the Undertaking. The crime rate had skyrocketed and no one was safe.

The 'what-if's?' had begun in his mind when Dig spoke, "She was volunteering. With Queen Consolidated out of sorts, she wasn't needed right away in the IT department. So she worked in the Glades. Filtering through rubble. Searching for survivors."

The words jumbled in Oliver's mind and he was struck yet again by how amazing she truly was. He had heard the fear in her voice that day, stuck below Verdant as the earthquake hit. Yet she had kept her cool and helped them do what they needed to do. He realized with a pang of regret that he hadn't checked on her that night, or even the next day. He didn't even know how she had gotten out of Verdant. If she had been hurt.

Unaware of the guilt clogging Oliver's brain, Diggle continued with his story, "I had been trying to get a hold of her for days once I was out of the hospital. I hadn't heard from her and was starting to get concerned. The GPS tracker we put on her phone was working again so I tracked her down to the Glades, to CNRI."

Oliver's gaze hardened and he could hear his blood pumping furiously. "CNRI?"

Dig nodded stiffly, looking down at his hands, "She was part of the clean-up crew, trying to salvage what she could. When I came in, she had paused to take a break and was staring at the blood on the floor, where – " he trailed off, knowing the rest of that thought was already in Oliver's mind. "She said she wanted to be useful. That she had to help in some way. The people of the Glades had suffered enough."

Feeling exhausted all of a sudden, Oliver sat heavily into the bar stool at the counter, rubbing his eyes with a frustrated fist. He considered what Dig had told him for a moment, a thought coming unbidden to his mind.

"She blames herself doesn't she, for not knowing about the second device? For not stopping it."

Dig didn't have to respond. Oliver already knew the answer.

"That's why she was working in the Glades, at CNRI. And then why she was so determined to renovate the lair. So that it was ready for you to come back and save the city."

Oliver's eyes slid shut, as the weight of the news sunk deep into his mind. She truly was remarkable. While he had run away with his guilt, she had channeled hers into action, facing the very tragedy she thought she could have prevented. They needed to talk about that, about her misplaced sense of guilt. He well understood the feeling, but he couldn't bear for her to carry that burden. It was his and his alone.

"Did her grandmother look after her?" A part of him wanted to know the details about what had occurred in his absence, but suddenly, knowing that Felicity had been taken care of was more important than anything else.

Dig nodded, "She couldn't drive herself there. Broken arm. So I offered to take her to her family. She didn't open up about anything until we headed back here. She knew I was curious."

A heavy hand fell on Oliver's shoulder, causing the younger man to look up at Dig questioningly. "Just be there for her, she will open up when she needs to." Oliver gave him a grateful nod, just as they heard a soft creak to the left.

Framed in her bedroom door stood the center of Oliver's attention, eyes soft and bloodshot, but still warm towards them both. A soft, relieved smile spread across her lips seeing Dig there and Oliver couldn't help the slight pang of disappointment he felt not being on the receiving end of that look. Dig took a step towards her and wrapped both arms around her in a hug, which she happily returned, disappearing from Oliver's sight behind his partner's large frame. He heard Dig murmur something to her and the hug lasted a moment longer before she withdrew, stretching onto her tiptoes to kiss his cheek before turning to Oliver.

"Thank you." Her tone was warm and he knew that she was thanking him for the entire evening, as she had before she drifted off. He nodded warmly, not trusting himself to speak at the moment. He couldn't help but look at her with new eyes after what Dig had told him. It was as if his awareness of her deepened in that moment and the strength he had seen at different points in her multiplied before his eyes.

Dig must have noticed Oliver's inability to fill the silence and reached out to put a supportive hand on her shoulder. "All the bags are in the car, so we are ready to go when you are." She turned an inquisitive look to him before turning to Oliver and biting her lip.

"About that. I know that you offered to come with me and I appreciate that more than I can say, but I know that the City needs you and I can't with good conscience be the one to pull you away from something that important and –"

Oliver stood then, moving to stand right in front of her, knowing that his words needed to penetrate before she lost herself to nerves like she had earlier. "Felicity, there is nothing more important right now that this. I want to help you. We both do. We're coming with you."

Her eyes shot to Dig with a hopeful and touched expression that Oliver could see affected his partner greatly. He offered her a warm smile, "We're a team, girl. We got your back."

A grateful smile appeared on her face then, and she turned watery eyes back to Oliver before reaching out to squeeze his hand. With a nod, she turned towards her bedroom, "Let me take a quick shower and we can head that way." At the doorframe, she paused and turned back to look at them both. Oliver could hear the quiver in her voice, showing the depth of her gratitude in her simple "thank you" before closing the door behind her.


	3. My heart has started to separate

A/N: So this isn't my favorite chapter. But I wanted to cover the time in the middle. Lots of thinking going on in this chapter that will set up some of what happens next, so while it's not epic, it's necessary. PS..I love Oliver's POV! But will continue to inject bits of Dig because I love his perspective J.

I currently have this outlined at 10 chapters, but I tend to let these run their own course so we will see what happens!

Thanks again for reading and reviewing. You all rock. The reviews really do keep me going on this.

* * *

_If I don't say this now I will surely break_

_As I'm leaving the one I want to take_

_Forget the urgency but hurry up and wait_

_My heart has started to separate_

* * *

A long, hot shower was exactly what she had needed, and gave her the time to compose herself a bit. The fact that there were two wonderful men, the two people she trusted most in the world, standing in her kitchen waiting to take her home meant more to her than she could express. While her original plan had been to take care of this alone, she was immensely grateful that Oliver had pushed.

The tenderness he had shown her was a bit unsettling though. It wasn't the Oliver she was used to, especially after what had happened in Russia. She knew she should shut it down. Keep her distance. Ensure the professional boundary stayed up between them.

Climbing out of the shower, she rolled her eyes. Who was she kidding. She needed him more than she could ever admit to herself. And at the point of her life when she felt the most alone, he was there, stepping in to make sure she wasn't. She would have to be crazy to turn that down.

Eyeing herself in the steam-covered window, she considered the fact that she probably already was certifiable. She frowned, seeing the tiredness that layered the blue of her eyes, surrounded by the redness earned from crying into Oliver's chest.

_Now sweetheart, any man worth his salt won't leave a woman crying without a shoulder. _Mimi's words rang so true in her mind, causing those same eyes to tear up again as the ache in her heart intensified.

With a resolute nod, she straightened the loose braid she had put her hair into earlier, and grabbed her yoga pants and hoodie. One last fortifying glance in the mirror and it was time.

* * *

Glancing into the rearview mirror, Dig caught Oliver's eye, pulling it from where it had been fixed on the quiet blonde tucked against the door. He could tell Oliver wanted to talk to her. He was practically vibrating with restless energy. But one hard look from Dig and Oliver relaxed back into the seat with a nod. It wasn't the time.

The ride to the airstrip was short, and honestly, abnormally quiet for the trio. He had to admit that his concern kept growing the longer Felicity stayed silent. He tried to smile reassuringly when he opened the door and held his hand out to help her out. She looked up at him with grateful eyes, but still said nothing, following him back around to the trunk to get her bags.

"I got 'em Felicity," he said softly, placing a warm hand on her shoulder. She nodded, biting her lip as she turned to walk towards the jet. He sighed, grabbing her bags and nodding to Oliver to take his before following her to the plane. He was grateful that she hadn't balked at Oliver's suggestion to use the company plane. He knew the younger man was grasping for ways to do something – anything – to help her, and a free, private flight was honestly a good suggestion considering her emotional state. That and it saved them from any unnecessary press attention. A tabloid cover about Oliver Queen and his assistant jetting off from a public airport in the middle of the night was not exactly what Felicity needed right now.

Climbing aboard, his gaze fell on his two partners in concern. Oliver had directed her to the seat right next to his, and was handing her a blanket. The look on his face betrayed his attempt to hide his concern as she took it limply, offering a slight smile at him. She turned her head to look out the window and Dig watched as Oliver scrubbed an anxious hand through his hair, shuffling his feet as if he didn't know what he needed to do next.

Dig had to smirk at that, considering how composed Oliver was the majority of the time. He knew that Felicity had the ability to get under the hero's skin, but this was different. Oliver was out of his element, yes, but Dig had never seen him want so badly to make her feel better. He looked helpless – a feeling Oliver Queen didn't wear well.

The object of his thoughts turned to him then, the mask falling back over his eyes as he caught Dig's smirk. Casting him a knowing look, Dig shuffled to his seat across from Felicity, grabbing her a bottle of water on the way.

She took it from him with a grateful smile, setting it in her lap on top of the blanket before casting her gaze out the window yet again.

Something told him this was going to be a quiet flight.

* * *

Oliver had endured torture. Horrendous, excruciating, mind-numbing torture.

And somehow, it didn't hold a candle to a quiet, withdrawn Felicity.

He honestly didn't know what to do with himself. His hands were restless in his lap, wanting to reach out and hold hers, yet nervous to at the same time. The easy comfort that had flowed in her bedroom was lost now as Dig eyed him.

She must have sensed his discomfort, wordlessly covering his hand with her own and squeezing. He turned to her quickly, only to find her eyes still fixed outside the window. He held his breath for a moment, waiting to see if she would withdraw her hand, but when she didn't, he cradled it between both of his, stroking the back with a gentle thumb. It was a small gesture but he could see from the tension in her shoulders gradually loosening that it soothed her somehow. At this point, he would fly her to Paris if that made it better.

That thought made him smile, imagining the fight she would put up over that. All the other women in his life would have jumped at the idea, enjoying the perks of his wealth and connections. Felicity, on the other hand, was content with him holding her hand. Somehow, that filled him with a sense of peace. She was in pain, and he knew that there would be low moments ahead, but right now, it was enough, _he_ was enough.

By the time they reached Coast City, Felicity had dozed off, head resting against the window she was leaning out of. Oliver hated to wake her, knowing how grief could tax the body, but they hadn't asked her where they were going beforehand and Dig couldn't recall the exact street her grandmother had lived on.

Dig took on the task of carrying their stuff down to the car he had requested while Oliver leaned closer to the his sleeping IT girl. Squeezing her hand gently, he brushed one hand up and down her arm, "Felicity, we're here."

Bleary eyes opened and slowly focused on him. His heart ached a bit seeing how bloodshot and red they still were, but he smiled at the inherent beauty in them in spite of the sadness. "Hey," he whispered, grateful for the quiet of the plane that allowed him to speak gently to her.

"Hey," she breathed, giving him a soft smile in return, before leaning up to stretch her stiff neck.

"Dig already got the bags and is waiting with the car."

She nodded resolutely, accepting his proffered hand to rise from the seat, shrugging the blanket off into the seat behind her. He stood close by as she stepped in front of him and walked towards the door, wanting to be nearby in case…in case she just needed him nearby. Something about her this vulnerable called to his primal, possessive side in a way he had never experienced before. He had been a protector for several years now, but being possessive of a woman? Never. The urge surprised him even more because Felicity wasn't essentially _his_.

Yet as he guided her towards the car with a surreptitious hand at her elbow, his heart argued with that little fact just a bit.

She slid into the backseat, and he sat next to her, close enough to brush arms with her. She didn't look at him, but he felt her body rest a bit against him, seeming to accept the comfort his presence brought her. The thought sent a spark through him – the fact that he brought her strength and comfort warmed him from the inside out.

Dig interrupted his thoughts by asking Felicity where she wanted to go. Oliver turned to look at her as her brow furrowed, her teeth coming out to worry her bottom lip.

"I guess there isn't much point in going to the apartment tonight, and I can't get into the family home…I can't believe I didn't think about this. I don't have anywhere for us to stay." Her voice tapered off in embarrassment as her eyes slid closed. Oliver shared a look with Dig and the older man began to drive.

Oliver nudged her shoulder with his own until she raised her eyes to his, "Hey, we'll get a hotel for the night. I'm familiar with one here and can get us a suite." She started to protest and he covered her hand with his own, squeezing lightly as he went on, "Let me do this. Let's get settled, get some rest and something to eat. Then we can plan what to do from there in the morning." He kept his voice soft but firm enough to hopefully compel her to listen, to let him take care of this.

She still looked ready to argue, but the tiredness in her eyes won out. He watched her visibly deflate, leaning heavily against him again. "Okay."

Oliver favored her with a small smile, leaning forward to tell Dig the name of the hotel.

Felicity came fully awake at that, grabbing his arm and tugging sharply, "Oliver, no. That's too much! And how is it going to look when the CEO of QC is checking in there with his assistant at 3 a.m.? You don't need to give Isabel any ammo and I don't want to give her another reason to…" she trailed off then, cutting off the line of thought that she didn't want to touch with Oliver. He inwardly winced, watching the hint of pain and disappointment flash across her face before she schooled the emotions.

"Felicity, let me deal with Isabel. I am here as your friend, helping you in a difficult time. If Ms. Rochev has an issue with that, I am more than happy to put her in her place." His tone was kind but brooked no argument. The stalemate lasted for a few moments before he rubbed a soothing hand up and down her arm. "It's okay."

She tugged on her lip with her teeth again, eyeing him with a mix of frustration, tiredness, grief, and something else he couldn't name, before slumping back into the seat, knowing that she didn't have the energy to fight him on this.

By the time they reached the suite Oliver had gotten for them, the fight was completely gone from her, allowing him to lead her and bear some of her weight down the hallway.

Thankfully, it was the middle of the week so he had had no problem securing a comfortable and private suite with enough rooms for the three of them to be comfortable. He understood and appreciated Felicity's concern about how things would look, and he had picked the most secure and private suite, but what was more paramount in his mind was her comfort. He knew she felt out of place in the opulence that he was so accustomed to, so this warm and tastefully decorated suite was a little more her speed. The living room was warm and large, with several cozy couches, a piano, and a beautiful view of the ocean. Two of the bedrooms were side by side on one side of the living room while the master was on the opposite. He guided her with a steady hand on the small of her back towards the master, a beautifully appointed room with a large king size bed and a fireplace. All in all, it felt very homey and less like what he was used to, which of course made it perfect for Felicity.

She silently moved towards the restroom, closing the door softly behind her, as Oliver watched after her. Dig came in behind him then with Felicity's bag, and the two made quick work of hanging her garment bag and organizing her things just a bit.

When she emerged, her hair was falling around her shoulders in gentle waves, a sight which caused an odd sensation in Oliver's chest. She gave them both a grateful look as she eyed the bags and then shifted her feet nervously by the bed. Dig caught the cue and stepped forward to kiss the top of her head.

"Get some rest girl. We can tackle everything else tomorrow," he said, before turning to leave the room. Oliver watched a frown cross her face as she reached out to grasp Dig's bicep, turning him back towards her before wrapping both hands around his neck in a warm hug. Oliver felt almost like an intruder seeing his bodyguard and partner wrap tight arms around her, murmuring something softly against her hair and waiting for Felicity to nod before releasing her and turning to leave with a smile.

Worrying her lower lip again, Felicity turned to him with a trust and vulnerability combination that he wasn't sure she was aware he could see. He moved forward quietly, lifting back the duvet on the plush bed and guiding her between the sheets with a hand. As she settled back into the pillows, he felt a small pang of disappointment that affection did not flow as easily between the two of them as it did between she and Diggle.

She sighed deeply, eyes shut, turning to her side to face him. Drawn by the softness he saw in her expression, he sat on the side of the bed, hip fitting into the natural curve made by her hips and abdomen, just close enough to feel the warmth of her without touching. Her eyes fluttered open as the mattress dipped and regarded him curiously. He was sure that his actions had thrown her for a loop, especially after Russia. Truthfully, he was surprised by his own actions, even as he lifted his hand to brush an errant curl back from her face.

She leaned just a bit into his touch and suddenly he was pulling away, for a reason he couldn't explain. There was a flash of hurt and something else in her eyes, before she snuggled down into the sheets.

"Goodnight Oliver."

The dismissal wasn't unkind, but firm. He nodded and pulled the duvet up over her shoulder.

"I'll be right out there if you need me. Goodnight Felicity."

After years of only sitting on a bed for a single purpose with a woman, he was surprised at his desire to linger. To watch her face relax. To watch over her as she rested.

Shaking his head, he rose from the bed and turned off the bedside lamp before softly shutting the door behind him.

For a moment, he stood by the door, trying to bring his unorganized thoughts into some sort of order in his mind.

"She resting?" Dig's voice was the perfect distraction from his own introspection apparently. His head jerked up to see his partner pinning him with a knowing look.

Oliver nodded, moving into the living room to crash on the couch. He didn't want to take one of the bedrooms and be that far from Felicity. Just in case she needed something.

Dig watched him for a moment before shaking his head and turning into one of the bedrooms himself.

Settling down onto the couch, Oliver couldn't make his body relax. He was wound tight as a rope, but not with the usual tensions and stress he felt on a normal day. No, today, the string holding him taut had big blue eyes and a stunning smile. The grief he had seen in her eyes tore something deep inside. She shouldn't have to deal with that. She shouldn't ever have to feel sad or alone. Logic told him how erroneous that was, but the newly possessive streak in him wanted nothing more than to wrap his IT girl in bubble wrap and shelter her from all the evil and bad in the world.

It wasn't because she was weak. She had proven repeatedly the inner strength she possessed. Honestly, he admired that about her. She carried herself with such inherent strength and consistent joy. That was Felicity. Light. Warmth. She was, in his life, the sun itself.

To see that snuffed by grief and loss was affecting him more than he knew how to process. All he wanted was to put a smile back on her face, to lift the veil of sadness that had fallen over her normally bright blue eyes. He wanted to hear a nonsensical babble, preferably one that ended in a blatant innuendo. He hadn't realized how much those little things brought life to him the same way she brought light into the darkness of his life.

He needed that light back. But right now, she needed him more.

Thinking back over the sheer amount of time they spend working together, he could think of less than five instances when she actually asked for something from him. She was an anomaly in his world in that regard. He was accustomed to everyone expecting more from him. And as a result, he had grown up throwing money and a coy smile at the world.

What Felicity expected from him was to be the best version of himself. And not the old him without scars, but the best version of Oliver. She didn't ask that for herself though, it was for his own sake and for the sake of those he loved, for his family's company.

She never asked for vacation, or even a day off. He remembered having to physically carry her out of the lair when she had the flu because she refused to leave to go home and rest.

On a deeper level, she never asked him for more than he was ready to give. While the rest of the world pushed him for answers about his time on the island, she let him give details as the situation required, or as he felt comfortable. She just accepted him where he was and accepted each piece he gave her along the way as a piece of his larger puzzle, one she had already committed to play a role in solving.

She was remarkable, in every way.

The sudden urge to do something for her, something that would mean the world to her and show her an inkling of just how much she meant to him swept over him. The thought was followed by the reality that he honestly had no idea what he could give to her that would even begin to express all that she has given to him.

Making a mental note to find something for his friend, his partner, his beautiful IT girl, he let his eyes slide closed.


	4. Quick author's note

Hey all! Sorry it's taken so long to get this updated. As Felicity's backstory was hinted at, I wanted to adjust where I was going with this to be as close to canon as possible while still fitting the plot I worked up. That being said, an update is on its way! 


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